Chapter Text
The thing with returning home from an Afghan prison/torture chamber/hostage situation is that Tony has gotten used to waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There was no meal without results, no talking back without torture, no water in his lungs that wasn't followed by a mild electric shock from his internal car battery.
So Tony walks with his son to the car, and despite the joy of it, the love front and center in his heart and the familiar feeling of having Peter at his side...Tony is still waiting to find out what went to hell in his absence.
He felt the first twinge of suspicion when he saw Pepper practically in tears trying to get Peter to turn around and face him on the tarmac. Pepper wasn't a crier, by nature. A lot of his past assistants had been—because he pushed them too far, because he was unreasonable, because he slept with them one night and gave them the boot at the office a few days later, take your pick.
Pepper is kind of impenetrable when it comes down to doing the hard things. It's something he's always admired about her.
Since then, Tony's caught Pepper staring at him no less than three times. He would assume it's just adjusting to his presence again, but there's a certain...hesitance to it. That too is not the confident, no-nonsense woman he's come to know in the last decade.
By the time Tony’s impromptu press conference is over though, he feels like she's back in full force, and he's not sure what to make of the difference.
"You cannot just call off production out of nowhere—" Pepper says, staying inside their little herd of Tony, Peter, Happy, and herself as they return to the Rolls, her heels clicking along as she keeps expert pace.
"Actually, it's my company, so I can, and I did." He's not going to apologize, even if what he did costs them in the long run. He'd let the entire company go bankrupt before he'd sell another weapon that could hurt innocent people. Stark Industries either finds a new way forward, or it ends today. To him, it's as simple as that.
Pepper clearly isn't on the same page.
"Tony, we have employees to pay, deadlines to meet! The Secretary of Defense alone has already called me three times—"
Then again, she hasn't seen the things that he has. If she knew what they were facing...
"Not to mention that Obadiah is losing his mind."
Tony sighs. "Obie'll live."
"He wants to see you. Immediately."
Tony would much rather go straight home, but he knows Obadiah way too well. If he doesn't say something now, Obie will just track him right back to the house and start a whole thing in front of Peter, and he doesn't want that. The poor kid seems upset enough as it is, considering how quiet he's been since the military base.
Tony sighs. "Fine. A pit stop. Take us to the labs. At least I'll have the reactor to look at while he chews me out." He squeezes Peter's hand, currently holding his. "Think you can hold up a little while longer?"
Food-wise Peter stole a few of his fries at their Burger King stop, but the kid looks tired enough for a full-on nap, and frankly, Tony can't think of anything better than joining him. He hasn't slept on anything softer than a grungy cot in three months. A few hours of gushy dad-indulgent cuddles with Peter on his California King sounds perfect.
Peter nods before crawling into the backseat of the car ahead of them. Tony reaches over to strap Peter into his carseat and finds Pepper's fingers already fussing with the sticky buckle.
"Oh!" Pepper flinches her hand back as if she's been burned. "Sorry, I just—I've done it for so long, now."
"You think I'm gonna kick up a fuss about you prioritizing Peter's safety? C'mon, Potts. If you didn't drill buckling him into the seat into my head, I wouldn't have learned how to start doing it in the first place."
That gets him a small smile from Pepper. "Only because you never do."
"Never did," Tony corrects, finishing with Peter's carseat and pointedly clicking his own seat belt. "I've been responsible and boring for six years now."
Pepper scoffs, "Hardly," before shaking her head as she addresses the tumult of notifications that keeps her Blackberry vibrating in her lap.
"She never gives me any credit, Peter," Tony complains. He loosens his tie a little, only wincing mildly as the movement agitates his sore arm. He unbuttons the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt too. There's no need for propriety with Obie.
"There was a time I didn't come home until four in the morning, you know. Now I have to be a good dad and stay up all night just to put you to bed five times because you're just as bad." He winks at Peter, but instead of a smile or a giggle, Peter's eyes are laser-focused onto his chest.
He looks down. The miniature Arc Reactor is peeking out of his shirt just enough for Peter to see the blue glow reflecting off of the cotton and his bare skin.
"Oh my god!" Pepper shouts, garnering Happy's attention enough to slam the brakes and jerk Tony’s proudly flaunted seat belt directly into the still-sore nerves around the reactor. "Tony, that's—what—"
"Happy, what the hell was that?!"
"She screamed, I thought—"
"Tony, what on earth is that thing?"
"It's the thing that's aching because you made Happy stop in the middle of the lot—"
"We need to go to a hospital, you need to get that looked at, it's—"
"It's perfectly safe, it's fine. Happy, keep driving."
"Yes, keep driving to a hospital, where someone can—"
"I thought I was the dramatic one. You're overreacting, this is just—"
"Dad!" Peter's little voice breaks through the chaos that is Tony and Pepper having one of their usual tiffs, and it works like it always does, directing both of them to the child pulling on their arms.
"Dad," Peter repeats, quieter, like he's embarrassed to have yelled that loudly. "W-what is it? Really?"
How to explain it to a six-year-old? To his son?
He would be dead without the Arc Reactor. He should be dead, but for one man, one miracle idea, one chance to get out of the cave and Yinsen's blood on his hands, on his soul.
He doesn't want to. So he doesn't.
"When they kidnapped me, I had to be very...careful. I had to be smart. More than I'd ever been before." It sounds like a children's tale, and for Peter, it should be. It shouldn't scar him the way it has Tony.
"I tricked them. I told them I was building weapons, but instead, I built a suit of armor. A way to fight back."
Peter chews at his thumbnail. "And...and you beat the bad guys?"
Oh, Pete. To paint the world so easily in black and white. As if Tony hadn't been responsible. As if, in some way, he wasn't a bad guy too.
But this is a story of heroes and villains and Tony has to be the hero. Tony isn't perfect, but for Peter, he can be that.
"Yeah, buddy. I beat the bad guys and came right home to you." He cups the back of Peter's head, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.
A smile tugs at Peter's lips despite his watery eyes when Tony pulls away. Peter looks at the AR again, this time a little more critically.
"'S pretty," he remarks simply, wiggling his fingers in the casting shadows of the light in the dark car.
Tony snorts, letting his head fall and press against Peter's, practically nuzzling the curls. Trust his kid to reduce a one of a kind Arc Reactor to a nightlight. Only Peter.
"Not my intent, but good to know."
He notices that the car has stopped, and looks up to Happy pointedly not watching his interaction with Peter in the rearview.
"I shouldn't be long, Hap. Keep the car running. Pete'll get carsick without the AC on."
Happy already knows this from a very memorable car ride where the AC died in the middle of back to back LA traffic and Peter barfed milk and Teddy Graham remnants all over the car, but he needs something to say to distract from what both Happy and Pepper surely heard. They must know his kidnapping experience was far from that tame, but they're certainly not going to grill him about it in front of Peter.
"Sure thing, Boss," Happy affirms, like he knows exactly why Tony felt the need to remind him.
"Text Obie that I'll be waiting," he throws at Pepper as he adjusts his arm in the sling, bringing his coat and mussed tie along with him.
"Tony!" Pepper says, causing him to duck his head before closing the car door.
For a minute she just looks at him a little frozen, like she didn't know she was going to do that. Then she breathes, steadying herself to admit, "I'm glad you're home."
He can admit, he's touched by the confession. It's about as earnest as they get without quipping each other to death. So, rather than answering with the instinctive snark on the tip of his tongue that goes something like, I never knew you cared so much, (because he does know, because she's always been there and he can't thank her enough for that alone,) he smiles.
"Thanks, Pep."
Obie shuffles Tony to the door, talking about how he needs to stay at the mansion, take a few days off, clear his head. It's all familiar nonsense framed around trying to back Tony down from a ledge, but this time he's sticking to his metaphorical guns. Missiles. Whatever.
Still, Tony’s mind isn't far from the idea of a mid-afternoon nap, a decent hunk of protein for dinner, and maybe a glass of wine if he's feeling really luxurious.
He'd be happy to listen to the other man's recommendations for rest, really.
But something Obie said towards the end of their little powwow is sticking with him.
"Tony, I know it was hard being gone all that time. I can't imagine what those bastards put you through. But you need to focus on what's really important right now, don't you think?" Obie sighed, then, shaking his head and flicking cigar ash onto Tony's shoulder.
"Potts tried her best, but that kid was pretty messed up while you were gone. Makes me sad to think what would have happened to him if you'd really been lost to us. I know I haven't always prioritized the kid before, but maybe the time for that is now. Let me handle the rest, okay? You just lay low, take a beat…"
The rest had gotten lost in the sudden ringing in Tony's ears. Messed up. That's how Obie described his son.
What does that even mean?
He knows it can't have been easy. Tony and Peter were practically fused at the hip, and considering the paparazzi and stalkers and the fact that Tony just got kidnapped, he's glad for it. He’s always felt he had a more direct hand in Peter's safety than Howard did with him, considering his father’s expressed, if it happens, it happens, we'll get him back, probably, sort of attitude.
Tony's sure that Peter not having his father around was hard and scary, just like not having Peter close by was torture for him, sitting in that cave shivering from the cold desert nights and telling sleep deprived stories of his baby to Yinsen for stories of the other man's family in return because there was nothing else to talk about but how miserable they were, what little time they had left to finish their plan or die.
Messed up, though? And enough for Obie to notice, who was the picture of giving Peter a $50 bill for his birthday instead of knowing him well enough to know what he might want? The man who turned every family-only holiday party into a chance to talk to Rhodey about business?
Once he gets back in the car, he doesn't speak other than to tell Happy to take them home. He chooses instead to stare out the window and reacquaint himself with the city rather than the endless desert he’d gotten used to.
Pepper gives him a fifteen minute silence buffer before biting the bullet.
"How was it?"
"Obie's pissed, as expected." Tony shrugs. "Wants me to take time off, keep my head down."
"It's not a terrible idea," she hums, trying not to outwardly take Obie's side as much as he knows she wants to.
"Guess not." He turns to look at her, only to find the cherubic visage of Peter completely passed out in his car seat.
"Poor thing," Pepper sighs. She places a hand on Peter's knee and gently caresses. "He didn't sleep well last night. All of this is probably wearing him out."
And that reminds him—of all of the things he doesn't know, that he hasn't asked.
He clears his throat, faux casual.
"You never really said what happened with him while I was...gone."
Pepper freezes her comforting motion. "What do you mean?"
"Rhodey said he was with you when they found me, but…"
Pepper takes a breath. Is she...nervous? Around him? Since when?
"Oh. He, um. He was with me. The whole time. You couldn't be declared legally...gone, yet, and I was on your list of emergency guardians, so."
That makes sense. Still, even with Rhodey out of the picture, there were other options.
"Not May and Ben?"
Pepper shrugs, tucking a piece of her bangs behind her ear that falls right back where it started two seconds later.
"I was worried about too much change. We didn't know how long you would be away, and I thought stability might help. Home, school. That kind of thing."
"He went to school? After…?"
"He tried. It didn't work out. He's taking summer classes to catch up for the fall, now."
"No problem for him, right? He's too smart as it is," Tony jokes, tapping half-heartedly at Peter's car seat armrest.
"It's been...we're doing okay adjusting, I think."
"We, huh?" he denotes. "How about you, Potts? Peter that much trouble? Little squirt put you through hell?" He mostly means it as a joke. Peter is his favorite human on earth, but being Peter's sole form of attention and entertainment can take a lot out of anyone. Even Tony needs time to himself, sometimes.
"No." This, at last, causes Pepper to firm her tone, to sit up a little straighter. "I loved being with him, I took care of him to the best of my ability and…"
She softens, looking from Peter to Tony, but her face remains serious. "I love him, Tony. You know that I—he was never a burden. Ever."
The thing about Pepper being sincere is that he really can tell. He knows her dry wit from her warmth, and this is the intensity of a supernova bearing down on him with one glance.
"I know, Pepper. I didn't mean to imply—I know."
Pepper clears her throat, backing down from her haunches a bit with a re-settling in her seat. “Good.”
“It’s cute though, how defensive you just got over him.”
He smirks just enough to earn an eye-roll, as this kind of teasing is much more comfortable territory for the both of them.
“Alright,” she replies, gently warning.
“No, really, if I ever need anyone to defend his honor, I know who to call.”
“Happy, how close are we to the house? I have the sudden desire to get out of the car.”
“You’re no fun.”
Coming home doesn’t really feel like coming home in the same way that landing at the Air Force base did, that being reunited with Peter did.
The mansion was from his own blueprints, but he’d designed it all in avoidance. Anything to get away from the memories of his parents’ place in LA, the penthouse in New York. Everything from those locations was packed up and shipped to a storage unit or currently sitting in his basement, and that’s how he preferred it.
The mansion was just a place, designed by the best of designers, furnished with items he didn’t even see the price tag for before signing off on them. There wasn’t a desire to make it homey so much as a want to have something of his own, away from the lingering shadows of his parents, away from the rest of California proper.
The workshop, though, was always his place. That’s where he directs Happy to drop them off, rather than the front door. The built-in lights flare to life as they drive through the tunnel, JARVIS’ systems easily recognizing the chip installed in Happy’s car that grants access.
Tony leans over, gently shaking Peter’s shoulder. “We’re home. Nap time’s over, bud.”
Peter wakes with a grunt, frowning and blindly reaching his arms out.
Tony chuckles. “Ohhh, no, I don’t think so. I’m not gonna be the one that ruins your sleep schedule by giving in to those pouty little lips. Come on, up and at ‘em.”
Peter rubs at his eyes, giving Tony a little blink-and-you-miss-it stink eye that could only belong to a begrudging six-year-old, unbuckling out of his carseat on his own and crawling across the leather seats to the door.
“Move around to the front, would you, Hap?” Tony asks, shutting the door after Peter makes his exit. Happy nods, turning the car around with optimal space and heading right back through the tunnel.
Around them, the workshop lights have faded up, revealing the pristine chrome tables and his car collection in a fluorescent hue.
“Welcome home, sir,” JARVIS announces. “And to you as well, young sir.”
“It’s good to be back, J.”
The workshop is undisturbed from when he left but for the cleaning of more than a few dirty coffee cups that would otherwise be growing some kind of mold by now.
The bots are currently sheeted to protect them from dust. Pepper probably didn’t let Peter down in the workshop on his own very much, and the bots tend to get a little bit like misbehaving puppies when left to their lonesome.
He lifts one of the sheets, uncovering DUM-E, who comes to life with a soft trill.
“Well look who it is! Still constantly defying expectations by functioning after all these years, are we?”
The bot turns its arm slightly, following its optical sensors to Tony before letting out a happy whirr of beeps, rolling away from its charging dock and around Tony in circles.
“Yeah, I bet you’re excited to get back to work, aren’t ya? Gonna make my life so much harder than when I was without a single bot.”
He probably shouldn’t rely on the bots as much as he does for company, but he’s been doing it since he was a lonely teenager at MIT, and talking to JARVIS and the bots in the shop has become as natural as breathing. It’s a part of his creative process that he can’t seem to shake, and doesn’t really want to. What’s the point of being able to create artificial life if he can’t treat them like extensions of the flesh and blood family he’s made for himself?
DUM-E rolls to a sudden halt, its mechanical arm quirking to the side.
Peter.
His son smiles, approaching the familiar robot and patting its metal exterior as if DUM-E is his prized golden retriever.
The bot trills even louder this time, lightly pinching its claw into Peter’s hair, a bastardization of Tony’s familiar gesture.
Peter just laughs. “Not too hard, okay?”
DUM-E continues to ruin Peter’s curls, chirping and then rolling around the lab between them as excitedly as it can.
“Why are you acting so funny, huh? It’s just Peter.” Peter learned to walk by toddling around the lab after DUM-E, U, and Butterfingers, so they naturally have an affection for his son as much as they ever did for Tony, but this seems...extreme. Peter rarely goes a few days without seeing the bots, and they’re acting like they haven’t seen a human in months. Had Peter really forgotten his little robot friends? Had Pepper?
Obviously the bot can’t elaborate, so it just rolls between Tony and Peter before realizing there are even more humans to bother and gunning for attention from Pepper too.
As Pepper is petting DUM-E’s claw, U is activated and set free as well, starting the whole process over again. The two bots gleefully fill the lab with their noise, playing with the blender and following them all around as Tony pokes at his computer a little. He needs to start analyzing the current Arc Reactor in his chest to start building the next one, and to do that without killing himself, he’ll need JARVIS’ help.
“So this is where the party’s at,” comes a voice from the stairs, announcing Rhodey’s arrival.
“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you for a few days at least,” Tony remarks, clicking off the newly created AR blueprints and setting it to one of his screensavers instead. “I figured you’d be so up to your ass in bureaucratic debriefings…”
Rhodey hums. “We got most of that out of the way during your stint in the military hospital. You were asleep through most of it, and they knew yours would be useless, so mine had to be top notch.” He gives a teasing grin to cap off the sentence, shedding his dress jacket and throwing it over his arm.
Tony scoffs. “Um, excuse me, my recap of events was incredibly succinct and accurate.”
“‘They kidnapped my ass on your watch so I had to get myself out,’ is not what I would call a helpful depiction of events, Tones.”
“They asked me to tell the truth. What part of that was untrue?”
Rhodey shakes his head, seeing that the argument is going nowhere. In Tony’s opinion, the US Government works for him, specifically because he’s the person that’s been handing them weapons for the last few decades. They don’t need to know what happened to him because they’re not the ones responsible for any of it. Not to mention before his kidnapping they weren’t really doing such a great job anyway of creating peace in the Middle East anyway.
No, he’s going to take care of those assholes who kidnapped him all by himself. He just needs a little time, and, well, that’s what Obie and Pepper think he should take anyway, right?
Tony rises from his desk, scooping up Peter into his arms on the way to the stairs without a word of warning. Peter lets out a sweet little squeal, but otherwise just allows the loose fireman’s carry to just sort of happen.
“What do we owe the pleasure of your presence anyway, Honeybear? I thought you might have had enough of me already.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you—”
“Ouch.”
“But I thought you might need an extra pair of hands.”
Tony scoffs. “As I told you before we got on the plane, I’m fine. Just popped my shoulder out when I—” Tony pauses, narrowly avoiding the word crashed in front of Peter. “Landed in the desert.”
“Your arm should still be in that sling,” Rhodey grumbles, tweaking a knuckle into the joint of Tony’s shoulder to prove a point.
“Ow, ow, ow! Baby on board, baby on board!” Tony howls dramatically, attempting to use Peter as a shield.
“That’s what you get for carrying my nephew when you should be resting!”
“Come here, sweetie,” Pepper offers, easily taking Peter from his shoulder and walking him into the kitchen. “Daddy and Uncle Rhodey are being extra silly, aren’t they? That’s why nothing ever gets done around here.”
“Hey!” Tony and Rhodey call at the same time, half locked in a faux wrestling hold.
Pepper eyes their position pointedly.
“How are we feeling about lunch, hm?” Pepper hums, bustling over to the fridge with a clack of her heels.
Peter just shrugs, happily slouching into her hold by wrapping his arms around her neck.
“Not super hungry, then? Okay…” Pepper rummages through the fridge one-handed, deciding what to offer.
A part of Tony is entranced—seeing Peter so loved and cared for by people he trusts is always comforting.
Another part, something darker and a little vindictive, sparks with jealousy. Why is Pepper the one that Peter trusts to take care of him? Why isn’t it Tony that Peter wants now that he’s home?
He tries to shake it off. Pepper has been taking care of Peter for three months now. She’s allowed to make the kid a sandwich and hold him for a few minutes. Especially when Tony’s arm is definitely sore again from his impromptu pick-up session and wrestling with Rhodey back to back.
“Would you eat half a sandwich? Does that sound okay? You and dad can split it. I bet he's hungry too."
Peter nods, reaching for a bottle of mustard as a way to help Pepper while making no effort to leave her arms.
“Eating meals with your dad again will be really nice," Pepper says idly to Peter while setting out an unopened package of cold cuts.
"Maybe we can do a big family dinner this week. You and Tony will be right next to each other at the head of the table taking up all of the conversation. I bet he'd even make your grandma's pasta if we asked really, really nicely. How does that sound?"
A grin spreads over Peter's face as he nods. "And our cookies?" Peter asks.
Pepper smiles conspiratorially at Peter, as if he and Rhodey aren't obviously captivated by their interaction. "I’m sure your dad will love them."
Stupid of his brain to ever try and belittle Pepper. She’s always been his biggest supporter in his efforts to be a good father, next to Rhodey. She's taking charge to get Peter fed because she knows it needs to be done and the rest of them are distracted.
Tony rounds his way into the kitchen, nodding his thanks when Pepper pushes a plated sandwich half over to him. The military doctor told him to take it easy with his diet, but after months of rice, canned vegetables, and the occasional charred piece of unidentifiable meat, Tony is happy to have recognizable packaged, sliced turkey on wheat and won’t take it for granted.
Pepper sets Peter down on the counter in front of Tony, running a hand through his curls. “I’ve got missed calls from the board, will you two be okay for a sec?”
Tony scoffs, leaning against the counter instead of sitting at one of the stools in an act of protest to show that he is fine.
“And now I can’t even be trusted alone with my son. You people are disgraceful!” he shouts after Pepper, who just waves back a hand distractedly, already in the midst of her phone call.
“If you’re not gonna appreciate that Potts made you a sandwich...” Rhodey’s hand dives toward his plate.
Tony picks up the sandwich and bites into it enthusiastically, glaring at his best friend with his overfull mouth. “Get your own.”
Peter giggles at their banter through a mouthful of his own food, dropping crumbs, a pickle slice, and a smear of mayonnaise onto his chin and down to his shirt.
“Now look what you did,” Tony accuses lightly, accepting the napkin that Rhodey passes over. “The kid is good enough at making a mess without your help, aren’t you, Pete?”
He rubs the food off of Peter’s face with ease, cleaning up Peter as best he can before going to throw the napkin away. He looks up as he walks, noticing the rest of the kitchen. Other than the spread Pepper arranged, half of the appliances look untouched. He knows he hires a cleaning staff, but it’s the unopened coffee beans next to the pot and the pristine state of the living room that he spotted on the way in that really weirds him out.
“Seems like you’ve been really good for Miss Potts, though. This place looks spotless.” He smiles at Peter, vigorously ruffling his hair. “Then again, I bet you probably kept it all to your room, didn’t you? Messy boy.”
Peter giggles at the affection, but shakes his head. “We weren’t here to be messy, Dad.”
Tony pauses, stilling his hand in Peter’s hair. “What?”
Peter seems to sense that he’s said something he maybe shouldn’t have, and clams up, shrugging in response.
“No, Peter, what does that mean?”
“Tony,” Rhodey answers instead. He sighs. “Pepper told me she moved them out of the house a few months back. Just...she said it was too hard, being here. She thought it was the right thing to do.”
Too hard? To be in Peter’s home? To give him the one place in the world he knew best? The place that had Tony all over it?
“So much for stability,” Tony quietly lashes out under his breath, earning a glare from Rhodey.
"Hey. No, nuh-uh, we're not doing this." Rhodey shakes his head. “That’s out of line, man.”
"Rhodey—"
"No, Tones, you can't—she was the one in charge. She made her choices, which is what you trusted her to do. She kept it together when a lot of other people would have given up."
"This is the only place he has ever lived since I brought him home from the hospital, you can’t just assume she was right in—”
"Think about it, Tones, if it was me, would I really have kept him here either? When all of my work is down at the military base and SI? Made the sitter stay an extra hour while my ass was sitting in traffic every day? C'mon."
Tony sighs. He sees the point, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. While Tony never felt like the mansion was home so much as Peter was what made it a home, he can’t imagine taking Peter away from it for any reason.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because I knew it would upset you,” comes Pepper’s voice from behind them. She has her composed face on, like she’s facing the press and a room full of CEOs that want to eat her alive instead of Tony. She knew the truth would come out at some point, and that she’d have to address it.
“Also, I wanted to give you time not to think about...what happened. That things were different while you were gone. You were so happy to see him, I didn’t want—” She sighs, shaking herself back from the more earnest warmth to composure.
“But being here upset him. May thought a change would be good for him, and we’ve been perfectly fine.” She gives a little smile at Peter. “Even if my neighbors do dote on him a little too much.”
Peter nods up at Tony. “Misses Winters said if we go trick-or-treating at the apartment this year, she’ll give me full size candy bars.”
Jesus, right, it’s only a few months away from Halloween. And Pepper had been staring that future down for months. It would be Pepper taking Peter trick-or-treating, helping him come up with a costume. Taking care of Peter was filled with all kinds of choices that Pepper kept making and making, one at a time, knowing that they might last forever because Tony might never come home and take that responsibility out of her hands.
And she’d done it. Without complaint, as far as he knows. Without pawning Peter off on Rhodey or the Parkers or even Happy.
When he thought of Peter not at the house, he’d forgotten that Peter wasn’t alone. It wasn’t always going to be with the babysitter, not like Tony’s days were filled with his parents’ staff: Jarvis, Ana, his nanny.
It was Pepper baking cookies with him, apparently. Introducing him to her neighbors. Going above his needs and giving him a life when the rest of the world assumed that Tony’s was over.
Tony takes a steadying breath, letting it out slowly. He’s gotten better at controlling his anger, his impulsive nature. Some of it will never leave him, he’s sure, but he’s curbed the parts that would make him anything like Howard, and starting a fight with Pepper over something small would certainly be the kind of thing to happen between Howard and Maria with Tony stuck in the middle.
And when he looks up at Pepper...he knows she’s not saying all of this to be apologetic. She’s saying it to state the facts. To state her case. But she’s not sorry, because Pepper is the kind that always, always thinks things through. To a fault. She wasn’t careless in taking him from the mansion.
“Okay,” he says. “Yeah, that—makes sense, I guess.” Tony runs a hand through his hair, clean but unkempt without his more expensive hair care products.
He doesn’t think she’s going to fight Peter coming back home, but he still asks, “What are we going to do about his stuff, how do you want to...?”
“I’ll go and get his things,” Pepper offers, taking his olive branch of acceptance for what it is. “Happy and I will bring everything back by tonight, and everything will be back to normal.”
Tony highly doubts that. The house feels devoid of the life he used to treasure, and he’s unsure if Peter’s toys and clothes can make up for three months of his absence if it gave his son so much emotional trouble.
“No, I—we’ll go. Peter should be there and I want to—” He doesn’t know what he wants. To be a judgmental bastard about it all? Maybe. Still, she’s Pepper and seems to understand the way he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Just—finish your food first. Both of you.” She points down to their plates, which are half eaten. Peter in particular has been picking at his bread crusts this entire time, leaving ripped hunks around the sandwich itself. She’s probably forcing Tony to eat as an example for Peter, which isn’t a terrible tactic.
“C’mon, Petey,” Tony encourages, patting Peter’s leg. “I haven’t seen Bunny in a minute. I bet he’s missed me terribly.”
Peter gives a little smile, too smart for the joke, but letting it pass anyway.
Pepper lives in an apartment complex just north of Santa Monica. With her salary, he imagines she could get something even more luxurious, but there’s a security gate and a doorman, so it’s definitely not cheap, either.
He imagines a substantial amount of her budget is instead spent on her collection of designer heels, then veers off of making himself laugh because he’s immaturely decided to stay a little miffed at her. (As he feels he’s adequately shown by letting Before He Cheats play on the radio for its entirety without saying a word or attempting to change the station.)
Pepper convinces Rhodey that they’ll be fine without his assistance, so he ends up agreeing to Pepper’s idea of a family dinner later in the week before he leaves to do...whatever it is Rhodey does in his spare time that isn’t hanging out with Tony.
The doorman of Pepper’s building greets Tony with a little bit of awe, but happily gives Peter a sucker from the bowl on his desk as they pass by.
“Ohhh, I see how it is. You bribed him to come here with sweets,” Tony whispers just for Pepper to hear.
Pepper rolls her eyes, otherwise ignoring his commentary by pressing the button to the fifth floor.
Peter, the sweet thing that he is, offers the candy to Tony instead of opening it himself.
“You sure, buddy?”
Peter nods, pressing the flavored candy into his palm. “Mister Newman is nice, but the caramel ones are the worst.”
Not so sweet after all, but he still accepts the treat, unwrapping the sucker and tucking it into his cheek. Peter’s right, it’s not as good an artificial flavor as cherry or watermelon, but it’s something to stop him from making blithe comments at Pepper, and that’s probably a good thing.
Plus, it’s a gift from his kid. He’s not a monster.
Just before they reach her apartment door, Pepper swings around, a finger pointed directly at Tony.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Hear what?” he lisps through the candy in his mouth.
“Whatever it is. About my apartment, about the state of it, about Peter’s room—any of it. I don’t care if you find my underwear in the middle of the floor. No jokes, no snark, no nothing, or you’re going to stay outside until he’s packed up. Are we clear?”
Tony blanks out for a few milliseconds following underwear coming out of Pepper’s mouth, but manages to come back in for the end and nod.
She scrutinizes him for a moment, squinting and tilting her head, but he must pass enough muster to let them in, opening the door with her key.
“Peter, your suitcase should be in my—”
Peter runs past them, already in the apartment and out of view by the time Tony and Happy step in and close the door behind them.
“Closet.” Pepper sighs. “I’m going to go make sure he doesn’t tear the house apart. If you see anything of his, just throw it on his bed. We’ll sort it when we get him home.”
Pepper throws her purse and keys onto a table by the door, her heels clacking along the hardwood floors as she traces Peter’s path across the room.
“I got it!” Peter’s voice echoes from Pepper’s bedroom.
“You’re going to fall, honey. Here, let me just—”
Tony looks around the apartment in front of him. Pepper’s apartment. In a decade of knowing each other, he hasn’t been here a single time.
It’s not far from what he might have expected, the few times he’d given where she lived an offhand thought. She’s always been appreciative of his modern decor in the mansion, but hers is interspaced with more warm, homey pieces: a few wooden chests, a vase of lillies on the kitchen counter, an unhealthy amount of scented candles.
The most noticeable thing is what Tony’s has been missing so desperately. Home.
Peter’s colorful socks sitting in a wad half under the couch. A pile of his beloved graphic t-shirts folded up in a laundry basket. Pages of homework left on the coffee table littered with his messy script. A couple of drawings magnetized to the fridge.
Pepper comes back in and behind her Tony watches Peter rolling the suitcase he uses for extended stays in New York or trips along with Tony and Pepper for work. It’s got a Captain America sticker peeling off of the front as well as a few generic smiley faces and stars.
Pepper eyes them both with a practiced upturn of one of her eyebrows. “Well, don’t just stand there. I said you couldn’t poke fun, not that you couldn’t help.”
“Oh, yeah,” Tony coughs out. If he did see something of Pepper’s, he’d probably be too overwhelmed to comment on it anyway. “What can I do?”
“I saw Bunny on my bed, can you grab it and put it in his backpack?” She turns to Happy next to him. “Happy, would you mind taking his toys to the car? It’s not too many, but the Lego bin will be a little heavy. You know him.”
“Sure thing, Pep.” Happy moves around like he actually knows where he’s going, stepping into another room just down the hall from Pepper’s with a quick, “How’s it going, kid?”
“It’s a lot of stuff,” Peter answers, as if a little awed.
“Which is surprising, since you’re not a lot of kid,” Happy jokes.
There’s a peal of laughter, and Tony walks by to see Peter getting assaulted with tickles against his ribs.
Tony shakes his head. Happy is such a liar when he tries to pull that grumpy act with them. He’s a natural with Peter, and there’s no way to hide it.
He enters Pepper’s room. It feels weird without her being in it, but he doesn’t have much choice and she trusted him enough to come in without her supervision. Unlike the rest of the house, Pepper’s room is relatively clean. The worst area is a pile up in the closet, clearly displaying an ascending stack of boxes that Peter used to try and get to his suitcase. A natural inventor, that one.
Bunny is in a bunch of unmade sheets, dropped this morning in favor of something Peter found more interesting. The bed looks completely undone. Did Peter sleep here with Pepper last night? That would track, since Pepper said he didn’t get much sleep. He probably woke in the middle of the night and went to her for comfort.
He picks up the stuffed bunny, noting the worn sections of cotton where Peter’s constant attention has started to wear on the material a little.
He’s never been so grateful for a stuffed animal. This one thing, this one spur-of-the-moment idea from Mary has shaped the entirety of Peter’s young life. It’s his most constant companion and soother, the thing that’s there for him when the rest of them can’t be.
Maybe he’d been joking about the plush missing him, but, well...he can admit, the familiar sight of the rabbit definitely soothes him too, because he associates it with his son. If this bunny is there, Peter must be close by. He’s really, really missed Peter being close by.
Peter breaks his concentration, running up to Tony and pulling on his shirt. “Dad, I can’t find my hoodie.”
He follows Peter into his bedroom in the apartment, impressed at what he sees. The glow-in-the-dark stars are a nice touch. He never had them growing up, but he can imagine Pepper looking at a whole ceiling of them in her youth and insisting upon the decoration for Peter all these years later.
She put work into making this feel like Peter’s space rather than a simple guest room, and it shows in the Star Wars sheets and what remains of Peter’s toys that were brought from the mansion.
Peter has searched the bottom of his closet by now, and seeing that Tony is being of no use, pokes his head out of the doorway.
“Pepper, I can’t find my hoodie!”
“Which one?” Pepper asks from the living room.
“The blue one.”
“Did you check under your bed?”
Peter stills, scrunching his brow. Then he crawls under the bed and immediately pulls out a blue hoodie that Tony thinks he remembers May buying Peter one year for Christmas.
“Thanks!” Peter calls back, shoving the hoodie into his suitcase rather than taking the time to fold it, as Pepper has clearly already started doing with some of his clothes.
Pepper and Peter are so effortless together it leaves him a little breathless. There’s a comfort here that Tony recognizes because he’s Peter’s father. He knows every nook and cranny Peter likes to go into for Hide and Seek, every loved and detested food, even when he doesn’t brush his teeth as long as he should. It’s instinctual, a practiced dance that comes from knowing someone, loving someone enough to care.
God, he wants to hate it. He wants to let his foolish jealousy take over, make him say cruel, vile things about how Pepper is taking his place, how Peter shouldn’t have had to be alone at all in the first place. But they all die on his tongue. Because Peter wasn’t alone, and Pepper isn’t taking his place. She’s got her own, well-worn into Peter’s life because that’s what Tony asked of her. What he’d encouraged.
And he loves it. He knows that he does because walking into this space, standing here, he feels it. He wants that ease and love back, has craved it more than anything else in the last three months. That is what is fueling his sudden bitter streak.
So he keeps his mouth shut and helps Peter start bringing his clothes off of the hangers in his closet instead of saying something that will get him booted out of this beautiful, loving space.